


Concerning Dragons

by Selkiessong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Tolkien References, one shot for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkiessong/pseuds/Selkiessong
Summary: Drama professor Jaime Lannister is forced to attend a lecture by Rhaegar Targaryen after rejecting his younger sister for the lead in his play. The only bright spot is the red head.Based on the hot professor/ grad student prompt on Tumblr.





	Concerning Dragons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansalannistark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansalannistark/gifts).



 “So, you see,” Dr. Rhaegar Targaryen rambled on and Jaime rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time. Seriously, the man could literally bore people to death. Jaime checked his watch (again!). Forty-nine minutes down, eleven more to go. What had he done to deserve this? Oh right, he had the effrontery to tell Daenerys Targaryen that she would not be the lead in his play, and the head of the Performing Arts department had _strongly suggested_ that his attending her older brother’s lecture would help mend fences. As the Targaryens were their gracious sponsors, Jaime had been a good soldier and found a seat near the back where he could at least people watch. In particular his attention had been caught by a red-haired woman with her hair braided out of her way, scribbling away, and who was either actually involved in the lecture, or was the actress he was looking for. Fifty minutes down, ten minutes to go.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that please,” it was the red head.

“Which part?” Dr. Targaryen seemed caught off guard.  Perhaps he wasn’t used to being questioned, Jaime thought snidely.

“About the dragons. You said that they are used as examples of harnessing the primal power of fire?”

“Well, yes,” Dr. Targaryen replied. “Dragons are the living embodiment of elemental fire, and”

“Then what about the cold drakes?” the red head interrupted.

“I’m sorry?” Fifty- two minutes down, eight to go.

“Never mind, more importantly, are you suggesting that the use of dragons is something positive?” there’s the slightest note of disbelief in her voice as though surely no one would be that idiotic.

“To harness the primal power of such a powerful element as fire takes a certain strength of will, of greatness of purpose, of belief,” Jaime wonders if Rhaegar inherited an unhealthy appreciation of fire from his father who had famously blown up his own lab. That was just what the world needed: a mild-mannered pyromaniac who also held a PhD in philosophy and was a respected professor. He hoped the school had a good insurance policy because he was not bailing them out.

The red-head’s ears had almost visibly pricked up. “So, you’re saying that as long as someone is strong they are someone to be admired and emulated?” Fifty-five minutes down, five to go, why was it just now starting to be entertaining? “Aside from the inherent fallacy of such an argument, are you aware of the origin of said dragons? They were creatures twisted from their original purpose Frankenstein style by a figure who is arguably a stand in for Satan, who moreover is explicitly stated as only being able to destroy and not create, thereby rendering your argument of creatively harnessing fire invalid? What led you to possibly even think of such an argument?”

If she had galloped up on a white charger fully armed and armored and shouted at Rhaegar to come out and die, he couldn’t have looked poleaxed.

“That concludes tonight’s lecture,” Dr. Targaryen said somewhat weakly, “if anyone is interested,” he continued but whatever he was going to say was lost in a mass stampede towards the exit.

Jaime found himself loitering hoping to catch the mysterious red-head who came out talking heatedly into her cell.

“He just dismissed us like we were in third grade,” she ranted. “Why lecture if you don’t prepare? I should have done this earlier and put everyone out of their misery. Do you know how boring it was?”

“Excuse me,”

She looked around, caught his eye and hung up with a quick, “Fine, we’ll talk later.” and walked over, “Can I help you?”

She had lovely expressive eyes, the drama teacher in him noticed. “I guess I just wanted to thank you,” he said awkwardly. ‘Real smooth, Jaime,’ a malicious little voice mocked.

“Oh, don’t thank me,” she was still irate. “If I would have known what a thin-skin he had, I would have said something much earlier.”

Jaime snorted. “Welcome to the Targaryen ‘my way or the highway’ philosophy of life.”

“You had him as a teacher?” she seems genuinely horrified. “For a whole semester?”.

She’s a student. He hadn’t realized but he probably should have. Well this was awkward.

“No, I, ah, taught his sister. I’m a professor.” Never begin with a lie.

“I see,” she says thoughtfully. “In what? I don’t remember seeing you, and I did my undergrad work here also.”

A grad student. That’s not terrible cradle robbing. “Theater,” he says shortly prepared to be questioned on why he was talking with a woman. Because of course, a male theater professor couldn’t be straight.

“I’m Sansa Stark,” she holds out her hand. “Grad student in History and Comparative Literature. I’m finishing my thesis,” she holds out the notebook she’d been scribbling in, “and I’m graduating this semester.”

“Jaime Lannister,” he says automatically shaking her hand.

“Do you have anything to do with my majors?” she asks, “because if you don’t I can’t see why we shouldn’t get coffee,” she finishes with a bit of a grin.

Well then. He holds the door open. “Ladies first.”

**Author's Note:**

> How was?


End file.
